Figured You Out
by BlueBolt
Summary: A sequel to 'Curiosity', exploring Ryou's internal struggle with coming to grips with his sexuality and Bakura's almost creepy obsession with him. Also sort of a songfic.


Bwahaahaa! Bluebolt here with a small one-shot, sequel to Curiosity. I'm sure you can tell what I was inspired by, and I hope the real owners of the song and characters will forgive me for putting them into this story. XD

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Ryou watched Bakura sleeping, shame scalded deep into his eyes, holding the sheets around himself as though he still had some sort of modesty. It was nothing unusual… as soon as Bakura got what he wanted, he just rolled over and went to sleep. Night after night, he did the same immoral, horrible, twisted things to Ryou, the victim… or at least, that was how Ryou saw it. Despite that particular point of view, he never said no anymore. He hadn't tried to stop him since the first time it happened. Perhaps he'd become attached to the sensation of forbidden passion… but then, it seemed that only led to another sensation: guilt. Bakura was a wicked person, Ryou told himself. Not even a person; a creature. Wicked, cruel, selfish. Ryou hated him… didn't he? If he hated him, why did he feel a stab of sadness when Bakura went to sleep directly afterwards, without saying anything? It was as if Ryou expected something… anything… to make this all right. Bakura snorted in his sleep and turned over to face his 'victim', frowning and opening his eyes.

"Whadda you lookin'at?" He mumbled sleepily, though without due sharpness. Ryou flinched, biting his lip and unconsciously pulling the sheets tighter around himself.

"I w-was just wondering… if… if you like me?" He stuttered, spur of the moment. Bakura yawned and sat up.

"'You stupid or sumthin'? I wouldn't screw a guy I didn't like."

"N-no, I mean… I mean…"

"Askin' me about love?" He grunted groggily. "Dun love you, stupid. I like lots of things 'bout you though."

"Oh," Ryou said quietly, "Like what?"

"Hm," Bakura hesitated, smirking drowsily and snaking an arm around Ryou's cloaked waist. "I like your pants around your feet." He suddenly pulled him down onto the mattress. "Now go to sleep. I'm too tired to deal with your pathetic insecurities."

"Okay."

The next day Ryou was out in the garden pulling weeds, working up a sweat in the sun. Bakura could be found sprawled out on a lawn chair, taking long drags at a cigarette. Ryou had been busy for the past two hours labouring at the roots of overgrown dandelions and various other pests, hoping to have the backyard presentable for guests, should any happen to come.

"Hey, stupid, I thought of something else." Bakura said unexpectedly from directly behind him. Ryou looked around, surprised, and was yanked to his feet. He received a lungful of smoke and looked up at his eyes, trying to ignore the filthy thing balanced between Bakura's lips. "You know, seeing you bent over like that panting in the sun really gets me excited." He murmured darkly, allowing his eyes to roam Ryou's figure. "And I like the dirt that's on your knees. Something about it turns me on." He began to ease his fingers into the back of Ryou's pants.

"P-please, Bakura… not out here… what if someone-" Bakura smirked widely, exhaling a puff of smog into Ryou's face.

"And I like the way you still say please, while you're looking up at me. Call it a power trip, but damn…" Bakura purred huskily, giving his rear a hearty squeeze and revelling in the way it made Ryou wince in pain. "You're like my favourite damn disease." He spat his cigarette out and crushed it under his heel before moving in to capture Ryou's mouth in an ash-flavoured kiss. The younger broke away, watching him with pleading eyes.

"Come on, Bakura," he implored, "I'm meeting Yugi and the others tonight. What would they think if I couldn't walk?"

"Ditch them… walking is overrated." Bakura said simply, dipping his head and kissing Ryou again. He picked him up and slung him over his shoulders, strolling into the house and spending the next hour in his bedroom with Ryou, indulging in sins of the flesh. Luckily, when Yugi came to the door later that afternoon Ryou had time to shower and find new clothes, and no longer limped like he had for the first little while.

"Hey!" Yugi chirped happily, blissfully unaware of the activities Ryou hid so shamefully deep in the back of his mind. "Ready to go?"

"Yep. Let me just get my coat."

"Um…" He said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "_He's_ not coming, is he?"

"You're pretty fucked in the head if you think I plan to sit here in this cesspool and be bored of out my mind, shortstuff." Bakura snorted, appearing behind Ryou and twisting his face into an awful grimace. Yugi sent his friend a concerned glance, but said nothing more. As they walked down the street, headed somewhere that Bakura didn't particularly care about, he drew Ryou behind and whispered darkly in his ear.

"I'll never love you. Don't get any ideas. But I love scaring off those people who look at us when we walk down the street, and I love the places that we go, and I love the people that you know…" he smirked wickedly as a schoolmate of Ryou's passed by, picking up his pace when Bakura shot him a nasty stare. He drew his tongue up the side of Ryou's face, pressing against him to feel the inevitable shiver of shame and disgust. "And I love the way you can't say no." Ryou didn't say anything, but picked up his pace and walked beside Yugi, who cast him a worried (but still somewhat oblivious) glance.

Bakura stayed behind, smirking softly and contenting himself by producing a cigarette from his coat pocket and, once he'd lit the sexy little stick of cancer, blowing the smoke on the back of Ryou's neck and into his hair to remind him that even when he couldn't see him, he was there. Ryou belonged to him. It was too late for him to escape… besides, he liked it anyways, playing the victim. Bakura chuckled wickedly to himself, ignoring the gentle conversation between the two boys ahead of him. "Fucking emo kid. He was asking for it…" he mumbled to himself in a tepid tone.

Nonplussed he was, and so he remained when they were joined by Yami and Jounouchi, equally uninterested by Honda's appearance, and just as uncaring when Anzu failed to materialize. They were all the fucking same people, useless people who all looked and acted the same and wouldn't give a damn if he curled up and died then and there. It was better that way, he told himself. People only get hurt when they try to give a damn about other people.

They got to the club without much stress, and night fell. Bakura scanned the crowd in front of the entrance with an annoyed scoff. "God, I hate people. So smelly and sweaty, and they crawl all over the place like fucking cockroaches. There are too many crowds, too many people. Too many long lines in a row…" He commented, shoving someone who wasn't really in his way, but happened to look at Ryou with more interest than Bakura liked. He inhaled deeply from his cigarette, and got right up in Ryou's face before exhaling.

"That's a disgusting habit." Ryou said, coughing and waving the smog out of his face. Bakura cackled, ignoring the hateful stares of the people Ryou called his friends. "It's incredibly unhealthy, too."

"Good thing I can't die then, isn't it?"

"The second-hand smoke is still bad for Ryou," Yami pointed out all too readily, and Bakura made a mental note to breath on him next chance he got.

"Fuck that. I can do whatever I want. Are we gonna go into the goddamn club, or stand out here looking like fucktards?"

"Somebody's in a bad mood," Yugi said, to which Jounouchi replied,

"He's just pissy 'cause that hot stud of a man over there was eyeing up Ryou's ass, and he knows he can't compare."

"Screw you." Bakura said, flipping them all off. Finally, into the dark, hot, crowded club they went. They found a table and sat down, and he became detached from the conversation, entertaining himself by staring at Ryou out of the corner of his eye, still smoking petulantly. Aware that he wasn't really listening, it wasn't long before they started talking about him.

"Ryou…" Yugi started cautiously, "is there… a problem between you and Bakura?"

"What makes you say that?" Ryou asked, immediately defensive. The other three became suspicious.

"He seems really… protective of you."

"Protective?" Jounouchi interjected, "You mean possesive. It's getting really creepy, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who's noticed."

"I've noticed too." Yami said, combing his fingers through his hair thoughtfully. He looked seriously at Ryou. "Look at him. Actually, don't. But he's totally out of it. He's in another world, and he's looking at you. What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on." Ryou said in his boldest voice.

"Don't lie. It's been like this for months. Something changed. He used to totally ignore you. Did something happen?"

"Do we have to talk about this now? He's right there!"

"Yes, we DO have to talk about this now. He never leaves you alone. You don't go anywhere without him. It's like he's obsessed with you, or he's in l-"

"No. Don't say that. Don't even think it." Ryou responded quickly. "He doesn't. He never would. He just… is looking out for me. Like a brother. Seriously guys… it's not like anything _could_ happen. I'm straight." The conviction was slathered on so thick that it seemed like just getting it up his throat and out through his mouth was causing him immense pain. Naturally, none of them believed him.

"When was the last time you had a girlfriend?"

"Well, never, but that doesn't mean anything. I just haven't met the right girl…"

"Sure," Jounouchi drawled, "Just like how I haven't ever actually 'dated' a guy, so I can't possibly be a homo." Ryou flinched and shrunk from the word like it had burnt him, looking at Bakura quickly without meaning to.

"I'm not…" he started, but couldn't bring himself to say it. "I'm not."

"Bullshit." Bakura said out of the blue.

"Shit!" Jounouchi said reflexively, "Were you listening the whole time?"

"Sure, why not. I still hate you all, one little conversation about me in front of my face won't change much." He smirked, but something was wrong with his expression. Something made him seem… irked. "In any case, Ryou's the most faggoty piece of ass of all of us. I don't know what the hell you guys are on if you haven't already figured that out." Without saying anything, Ryou rose from the table and left quickly. "Ah, fuck. Now they're gonna get mad at me…"

"You should be more sensitive to his feelings!" Yugi protested, getting up to follow him.

"Hang on there, little guy. I'll get him." Bakura said, standing swiftly. "You sit here and suck face with your boyfriends. I'll be right back." He disappeared, and Yugi could only blush feebly.

"Boyfriends? Plural? What was he talking about?"

"Beats the shit outa me," Jounouchi added hastily.

"His imagination is just left unchecked for too long sometimes, I think." Yami concluded, putting an arm around Yugi. They said no more on the subject.

Bakura found Ryou in the bathroom, blotting the tears in his eyes with a crumpled piece of toilet paper, sniffling softly.

"What's the matter?" He asked coarsely, not surprised by the way Ryou jumped in fear. He was, however, surprised by the answer he received.

"I… have no idea. I don't know why I'm so upset."

"The fuck? That's… stupid. What are you, a hormonal teenage girl?"

"Is that all I am?" He questioned suddenly, turning to face Bakura. "A piece of ass? That's the only thing you like about me. You don't care about anything except for sex? You never liked anything about me. You just wanted a- a- a quick fuck?"

"Holy shit, you really are a hormonal teenager girl. Where did this come from? Sure, sure I like you. And if I wanted a quick fuck I'd get it off some man-whore in a dark alley. I like lots of stuff other than your ass. I mean, it's still a nice ass, but. Fuck," he said, and laughed for no particular reason. "What I mean is. I dunno. Lots of shit. I like the light on your eyes, I like the shadows on your neck- hell! I like the powder on your nose! Just don't freak out on me. It's fucking embarrassing, yanno?"

"But what am I to you?" He asked, clearly still distressed. "Just some guy that's good for screwing when you're bored?"

"Since when did you care about my opinion of you, Mr. I'm So Straight And Homophobic?"

"I am straight! I would never actually want to do that kind of… I would never enjoy something so wrong, so unnatural!"

"The only thing unnatural about it is the way you beat yourself up for it. You like it. I know you do. I've known for a long time that you like it."

"Not all the time. Not the very second you decide you're horny."

"Maybe if you admit to yourself who you really are, then I wouldn't always have to take the initiative."

"Take the initiative? That's what you call forcing yourself on me and hovering around me and staring at me? Taking initiative?"

"Sure, point out all the bad things."

"Scuse me, ladies, but I need to take a piss, so your bitching is going to have to move somewhere else," an arrogant young clubber interrupted, sidling up to a urinal and making them quite aware of the fact that they were having their discussion in a bathroom. They made a speedy exit, talking as they moved back towards their table.

"And what do you mean, admit to myself who I really am?"

"Yeah. Before you go asking me what you are, ask yourself who you are."

"Who I am?" He paused, drifting off as much as is possible in a blaring, flashing, thumping mess of popular culture. After a moment, he replied: "I don't even know anymore…"

"Am I going to have to tell you? You're just you, that's all. So what does it matter if you like chicks or dicks? You're still you. That doesn't change, you idiot. You're too worried about morals and shit to just kick back and enjoy life. And now I know who you are. It wasn't that hard just to figure you out. So don't lie to me about yourself, and don't lie to yourself about… yourself. You know what I mean. Lying is bad, and shit." His finished his speech by pulling out the stump of his cigarette and putting it out on someone's table as he walked by. The woman wasn't quite as amused by it as Bakura was, but he didn't care. Ryou fell silent. When they got to where Yugi and the other two had been, only Jounouchi remained at the table.

"Thank God you guys are back. I thought I was gonna have to sit here waiting forever. I didn't want to lose our table, but Yug' is on the dance floor with Yami, and you two- well, whatever. Watch the table, I need to burn some energy." Before they could say anything, he was gone. Bakura and Ryou sat down, and Ryou's eyes moved absently across the mass of people moving to the beat of the music. He found himself watching Yami and Yugi enviously, secretly desiring the close proximity, the gentle but powerful gestures, the ease with which they showed their affection. They seemed so happy, so laid back.

"Jealous?" Bakura purred into his ear.

"If I say yes, you'll take it to mean I want you to use me as a tool for sating your own lust," he sighed, "so no. I'm not jealous." He turned his attention to a young man who was approaching their table with purpose in his step, and wished he were invisible. "That better not be the manager or something… it wouldn't be the first time you've gotten me kicked out of a club or a restaurant." But the stranger was not a manager or a security guard.

"Hey," he said pointedly to Ryou, "I was wondering if you'd like to dance. You look lonely." The outsider offered a charming smile, and Ryou blushed.

"Sorry, I… I'm fine right here, thanks. Sorry." He smiled back apologetically, albeit rather nervously. The man's cheerful expression faded a little, and he glanced at the dark warning glare settled on Bakura's face.

"Okay, if you're sure," he said, pausing only a moment before returning to the dance floor. He wasn't even out of sight before Ryou felt the familiar hot, smoky breath on his ear and neck.

"He had a small cock anyways…" Bakura purred victoriously, "and he probably wouldn't have been very turned on if he saw you naked. I bet he doesn't like skinny, pale, wimpy guys with freckles on their chest." Ryou's jaw clenched angrily, a sharp, stabbing pain piercing through his confidence- what little of it was left. "But don't worry… _I_ like the freckles on your chest."

"What are you trying to accomplish?" The young man asked, his throat scratching with the effort it took to stop himself from crying.

"Why did you say no? Why not go with mister fucking handsome? I know why… cause you're too used to me. You might even be starting to like me, hmm? I like that. Just another way to guarantee that you belong to _me_, and always will, and I like the way you like me best."

"What if I don't?" Ryou asked with a tremulous quiver in his voice, "What if it's all just in your head?"

"You may think I'm insane, boy… but I know how to read certain signs… and I like the way you're not impressed, but you can't hide it. D'you think I'm a fucking moron? I'd have to be blind not to see how helpless you are without me. So go ahead and pretend like you know something I don't, while you put me to the test, but I see right through you." Bakura reached for another cigarette, but then changed his mind. "Let's go home. Now."

"What are you going to do to me?" Ryou asked in a whisper that shouldn't have been audible over the blasting music.

"I'm going to fuck you," was the drawled, arrogant response, "hard and long, until you scream for more and stop pretending to be a fucking hetero." He laughed darkly, "Or you could keep pretending, if you like. We could get you back into that nightgown of yours that looks like freaking lingerie. You look real pretty in a dress, you little fruit. It's probably still dirty from last time, but that's okay… I like the white stains on your dress. They suit you. Come on- we're going."

End


End file.
